Editor’s Note: This is the first in a series of poems by Victor Clevenger about his son, nicknamed “The Milkman”
Milkman’s Mustache
i offer him a razor for the first time
he declines it
like a thirsty hound from hell
when offered holy water
turning his head from side to side
in front of a bathroom mirror
admiring something that looks quite fragile in its infancy
like spiderwebs the color of rust
that spell out the word masculinity
in a thin font stretched
across his cracked lips
About the Author: When not traveling on highways across America, Victor Clevenger spends his days in a Madhouse and his nights writing poetry. He lives with his second ex-wife, and together they raise children in a small town northeast of Kansas City, MO. Selected pieces of his work have appeared in print magazines and journals around the world, as well as at a variety of places online. He is the author of several collections of poetry including Sandpaper Lovin’ (Crisis Chronicles Press, 2017), A Finger in the Hornets’ Nest (Red Flag Poetry, 2018), and Corned Beef Hash By Candlelight (Luchador Press, 2019).
Image Credit: Achille Devéria “Portrait of a Boy” (about 1850–1855) Digital image courtesy of the Getty’s Open Content Program.
As It Ought To Be 